


Harry Potter and the Third Time Lucky

by PixiePatronus2236



Series: Lily Luna Potter Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-12 14:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21477658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixiePatronus2236/pseuds/PixiePatronus2236
Summary: The Potters are expecting...again! While preparations get underway for the new arrival, the Aurors must grapple with a killer who has a hidden agenda.When dark forces threaten the health and happiness of mother and baby, the family must pull together if they are to survive. Only one thing is certain; things will never be the same.
Relationships: Family - Relationship, Romance - Relationship
Series: Lily Luna Potter Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548109
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

“Happy birthday dear Albus, happy birthday to you!” 

The notes rang out through the Burrow, with family members young and old adding their voices to the celebratory din. 

For his part, the birthday boy was rather in awe of the festivities. Last spring, James had been so proud to know all the words that he had sung it to himself, much to everyone’s amusement. But Albus listened in silence. 

As the last chorus died away, Harry spotted the beginnings of a trembling lower lip and started forward, hoping to avoid disaster. But with her chaser reflexes, Ginny was there in a flash separating herself from the crowd of children already clamoring for cake. 

“Mummy!” Albus raised his arms in surrender, as she extracted him from the high chair with practiced ease. With his chubby face and dimpled knees, he was still her baby and it seemed just yesterday that she had held him in her arms for the first time. 

Planting a kiss on his forehead, Ginny murmured. “Let’s show these candles who’s boss, Al.” 

Two candles, one for each of them. Together, they wished.  
~

A couple of hours later and the sugar slump had set in. James was curled up in Ginny’s former bedroom. He and Freddy were listening to a colorful rendition of The Wizard and the Hopping Pot courtesy of Uncle George, fighting sleep in that futile way that toddlers do.

The Granger-Weasleys left not long after the plates had been cleared away, with a protesting Rosie in tow. Ron suggested that she was overtired, but an afternoon of polite refusals, unexplained absences and covert glances led Harry to suspect that that their swift exit had little to do with their daughter and more to do with a secret sibling. 

Celestina Warbeck could be heard warbling on the wireless in the kitchen; though Angelina hated the singer, her tunes had a calming effect on Roxanne. Bill and Fleur had just disappeared through the Floo Network with the girls, taking Molly with them for a sleepover. Audrey and Percy said farewell too, with talk of lesson plans and reports. 

Though initially distraught at his cousin’s departure, Albus had cheered up immensely at the sight of some brand new building blocks. After completing his tallest tower to date, the toddler fell asleep, exhausted by all the excitement. 

Now he lay snoozing in the armchair opposite the fire, while his parents shared the sofa. Breaking the comfortable silence, Ginny whispered. “You never asked me what I wished for…” 

Harry eyed his wife in disbelief, wondering how she could be so ignorant of the most basic principles of magic. “It won’t work if you tell me!” 

Ginny laughed, leaning in so that her breath tickled his ear and his nostrils were filled the beloved scent of flowery perfume. “Let’s see about that, shall we?”


	2. Chapter 1

Emerald flames lit up the darkness momentarily, as Harry appeared in the fireplace at Godric’s Hollow. Stepping out of the grate after a long shift, he ought to have turned left and headed into the hall to go up to bed. But some instinct told him to turn right, towards the adjoining sitting room. 

It was then that he saw Ginny sprawled on the sofa, her arm hanging down at an awkward angle, her freckled skin pale in the moonlight. 

For a split second he feared the worst. But the gentle rise and fall of her chest was enough for him to breathe a sigh of relief himself. He sank down into a nearby armchair, closing his eyes, only to relive the day’s events in vivid technicolor. 

~

Harry Potter had been strolling through Diagon Alley, gift bag in hand when he saw the side street behind Flourish and Blotts’ cordoned off with purple tape. The area beyond might as well have been covered with fog, as strong wards obscured the area from view and prevented the entry of unauthorized personnel, to avoid crime scene contamination. 

Vanishing his half-eaten sandwich, he readied his badge and pushed through the small crowd. Crossing the icy barrier he managed to suppress a shudder, warmed as he was by a rush of adrenaline. 

Taking in the scene, he spotted a familiar sandy-haired figure in the corner. Edging closer he saw that his colleague was bending over not one but two bodies. “Finnigan, what have we got?” 

The Irishman turned, startled to see his boss standing there, as if by appointment. “Haven’t you got anything better to be doing on your lunch break, Potter?” 

Though he had been promoted to head of the auror department last year, Harry flat out refused to answer to ‘sir.’ He much preferred to continue using his surname while on the job. 

Catching his former classmate’s eye, he chuckled. “I don’t go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.” 

Seamus gestured to the corner, where Abercrombie was offering a cup of tea to an older woman who appeared to be in shock. “The call came through about thirty minutes ago, from Flourish and Blotts; a staff member was clearing up after this morning’s book launch and found the bodies behind the bins.” 

Kneeling down beside the lifeless forms, Harry saw a blonde woman in her mid twenties. There was no sign of injury and her emerald robes bore no bloodstains. Depending on who you asked, the killing curse was either mercifully or mercilessly instantaneous. 

Lying nearby was a man, a few years younger, dressed in typical Muggle garb. His mousy hair was tousled, but it was his facial expression that drew Harry’s attention; it was not shock he saw there, not horror, but betrayal. If he had to guess, it was likely the man had suffered death at the hands of someone he knew and trusted. 

As Harry got to his feet, Seamus signaled to Abercrombie and the newly arrived Peakes. “The victims will be sent to St. Mungo’s for an autopsy. Meanwhile, I want you two combing the scene for magical traces.”

Jimmy nodded, but Euan was looking in the distance, as though mesmerized by the wall opposite. 

His boss was still talking when he turned his back to examine the brickwork. The insubordination was almost too much for Seamus, whose face was rapidly turning red. 

“Abercrombie, what in the name of Merlin’s saggy left-“ He was about to unleash a furious tirade, but Harry silenced him with a meaningful look, just as Euan turned to the group, his grey eyes glinting in triumph at having found not just any old evidence, but a wand. 

Afterwards Abercrombie was full of apologies. As it turned out, his Mum had once managed the bookshop and he had often played in this very alley as a child. Standing there he has recalled his Mum opening the hidden safe so he could stash toys inside. 

Having calmed down considerably, Seamus allowed Euan to do the honours. Prior incantato revealed a flash of green light, which confirmed that this was indeed the murder weapon. 

~

Harry was shaken out of the reverie by his wife. By the light of her wand, his stubble and dark circles were clearly visible. Likewise, he could the sheer exhaustion in her face, her brown eyes still gummed together with sleep. 

“You look like I feel,” she murmured. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he whispered back. Years ago, Ginny has told him about her father’s habit of providing Mrs. Weasley with a fact of the day about Muggles. Hermione had latched onto the idea, stating that intellectual growth formed part of a healthy relationship. Somehow, the Potters had gotten into the habit too. 

Grabbing his hand in the darkness, she smiled. “I’m pregnant.” 

It took a fraction of a second for Harry to process the information. Eyes lighting up, mouth agape, he hugged her like he had only ever done twice before. 

Drawing back he caught her eye. “The anniversary weekend?” 

Ginny nodded. “Four weeks. “Rather impressive, for a first go.” She winked. With James, they had thrown caution to the wind and it had still taken them three months, whereas Albus had been a complete surprise. 

“Are you pleased?” Snuggled into his chest, she didn’t answer for a moment, her body radiating an unspoken happiness. 

“I am, truly,” she whispered. “But you can’t say it wouldn’t have been fun to try a little longer…” 

Harry laughed aloud, as the clock struck midnight. He had always loved the witching hour, but as Ginny suppressed another yawn, he realized that it might be a good idea to put the celebrations on hold until morning. 

He stood up, gestured towards the doorway and raised a questioning eyebrow. “You mean I could convince you to go to bed with me this minute?” 

Smirking slightly, she followed suit.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry appeared in the bedroom doorway, a cup of ginger tea in hand. Ginny drank gratefully, her stomach still queasy from the last bout of morning sickness. 

Rather than watch on helplessly, Harry had offered to get the boys up before heading off to work. 

“Love, I’m sorry, but I really have to go. Albus is changed. I gave him some cereal, so safe to say it’s on the walls by now. James is dressed, but refusing his eggs.” 

Ginny rolled her eyes good naturedly, while donning her dressing gown. She looked better than earlier, though still rather pale. “Well, I can hardly blame the poor chap. You’d swear your soldiers were on rations; half the fun is dipping them.” 

“Well, if I won’t make the cut as a chef or a manservant, I suppose I’ll just have to stick to stick to catching dark wizards, eh?” 

Rolling her eyes good naturedly, Ginny stood on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Harry watched her go with a sigh, wishing more than anything he could keep his family safe. 

~

On his way through the atrium, Harry saluted Eric. The sight of the badly shaven wizard in his peacock blue robes reminded Harry of the first time he had visited the Ministry of Magic as a teenager. 

The golden rod they used to scan visitors’ wands lay ready upon his desk, as the watchwizard pursued a copy of The Daily Prophet. The thought of the newspaper headlines brought Harry’s attention back to the case at hand. 

Just days ago Ollivander’s had been empty, bar a single spindly chair and hundreds upon hundreds of dusty boxes. 

Abercrombie hung back nervously, but Harry leaned against the counter, waiting patiently. It wasn’t long before a figure emerged from the back room. 

“Mr Potter, what can I do for you?” The proprietor looked him up and down with interest. 

“Gervaint, isn’t it?” Harry asked. He held out his hand, before reaching for his badge. “My colleague and I wondered if we might speak with your grandfather regarding an official matter?” 

Nodding, Gervaint beckoned them behind them behind the counter and up a set of rickety stairs to the wandmaker’s private quarters. 

They found Mr. Ollivander behind his desk; at first it was almost impossible to see him over the stacks of paper. Upon spotting Harry, Ollivander lowered his magnifying glass and set aside the phoenix feather he had been examining. 

Ollivander's silvery eyes were shining with delight, as he gestured for them to take a seat. “Harry my boy, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

Introducing Abercrombie, Harry cut to the chase. “Mr Ollivander, perhaps you’ve noticed there are rather a lot of Aurors in Diagon Alley today? We are investigating a murder case nearby.” Naturally, he nodded. His office overlooked the street below and despite what others might think, he never missed a trick. 

“You once told me that you remember every wand you ever sold. Do you think you could identify the original owner of what we believe to be the murder weapon?” 

With that, Euan stepped forward, using his own wand to bring forth a silvery strand of memory, that eventually formed a perfect replica of the wand, which Ollivander carefully scrutinized. 

Eventually, he gave a verdict. “Elm, dragon heartstring, eleven and a half inches, slightly bendy.” 

After taking down the owner’s information, Abercrombie was obliged to ask. “Sir, do you remember anything unusual about the day you sold it? The family who bought it?”

Ollivander’s eyes took on a faraway look, as he was transported to a summer’s day, almost sixteen years previously. “The wand chooses the wizard, however much we might like to pretend otherwise…”

For wizarding families, the choosing of a wand was a momentous occasion. Most excitable eleven year olds were accompanied by their parents but siblings often came too. Certain Purebloods insisted that ancient relatives be allowed to preside over proceedings. 

The little girl in question had matched easily with her chosen wand. Payment made, the father asked that her brother might receive one too. 

He was young; scarcely more than seven or eight. The age at which one wields a wand depends on enrollment in a suitable institution, or the employment of a qualified tutor. But guidelines under the Statute of Secrecy stated that one’s magical education should begin at some stage between the ages of ten and thirteen. 

Ollivander spoke firmly with the father, suggesting that he returned with his son in due course. The wizard was fuming, but the wand maker refused to budge. They were far too busy to notice that the little boy himself was nowhere to be seen. 

But as Ollivander attempted to usher them from the shop, there was a clatter from behind one of the nearby shelves. 

Startled, they all turned to watch as the little boy extracted his chosen wand from its case. He looked triumphant, perched upon the stepladder, but the wand itself was little more than a stick in his small hands. 

There were no sparks of joy, only fear and anger in the face of an undeniable truth. 

When Harry and Euan were back in the Ministry of Magic, still reeling from what Ollivander had told them, they received word that the post-mortem results had come through; there was no sign of poisoning, nor any traces of venom from a magical creature. 

As suspected, the pair were indeed siblings. 

~

As the boys colored in the corner and the dishes scrubbed themselves in the sink, Ginny took the opportunity to catch the press conference coverage on the wireless. 

Switching on the radio, she heard a familiar Galway accent.

“On the morning of 3rd March 2008, two bodies were found in close proximity to Flourish and Blott’s bookshop, Diagon Alley. Their deaths were declared suspicious, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is now conducting a full investigation, following several actives lines of inquiry. Nonetheless, we ask that anyone who was in the area at the time come forward immediately with any relevant information.”

There was a pause, a rustle of parchment. “The deceased have since been identified as Nerys and Gabriel Orpington. Their family asks for privacy at this time.” 

Naturally, the end of the official statement was almost drowned out, as reporters clamoured to have their questions answered. But Ginny heard none of it; blood pounded in her ears, bile rose in her throat so fast that she almost didn’t make it to the sink in time. 

Wiping her mouth she shuddered, shocked to the point of grief. 

~

Having stood up from the conference table and set off towards the lift. Preoccupied by the notes from the latest briefing on Operation Thunder, he collided with a passing witch. 

Startled, he reached out to keep here from falling, only to receive a jolt of electricity so strong it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

“My apologies Miss…?” Taking her in, he noted red hair a large nose and most importantly, a green lanyard which identified members of the press. 

Recovering herself quickly, the woman stuck her hand out. “Miss Cliona Murphy.” He felt as thought he ought to recognise her, but dismissed the notion. Despite everything, the wizarding world was not quite that small. 

“Mr. Potter, I don’t believe in counting one’s eggs before they’ve hatched, but I must say, your track record is impeccable. Let us hope it is enough to bring the killer to justice.”

Nodding, Harry excused himself under the guise of an upcoming meeting. Striding away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. 

~

Hours later, Harry couldn’t resist the urge to nip home for lunch. James greeted him with gusto, thundering down the stairs. Albus entrance from the sitting room was a little more subdued; the small boy clutched Sparky the dragon as though his life depended on it. 

As it transpired, their mother had been forced to rescue the teddy from James’ blanket fort. Her eldest son had a habit of forgetting to ask permission before ‘sharing’ toys. With a little help, he had seen the error of his ways, but it was decided that the pair would play separately for a while. 

Though glad to see him, Ginny was a little puzzled. Harry hardly ever came home during the day, especially not in the midst of a big case. 

“It looks as though someone is feeling better.” He eyed her cheese toastie with interest, contemplating his own lunch options. Unsure, he decided to stick the kettle on anyway. 

“Yeah I got my appetite back around midday; this little one is very considerate.” Unconsciously. Ginny’s hand slid down to her stomach, which was as flat as ever. As of yet there were no outward signs that she was expecting, but it wouldn’t be long now. 

Fortified by a gulp of tea, Harry broached the subject. “Gin you haven’t told anybody about…?” He trailed off, gesturing to her midriff, 

Ginny laughed. “If by anybody you mean the midwife, then yes. Padma cleared me for flying this morning.”

Apparition and portkeys were discouraged during the first and third trimester, as such methods of transport were more likely to result in miscarriage or premature labour. It would be much safer to fly to Ilkley for the Wanderers v. Wasps match that night. 

There was always the temptation to shout it from the rooftops, but the last thing either of them wanted to do was to tempt fate, not after conceiving so easily. The statistics said one in five women would suffer the loss of an unborn child and Fleur’s heartbreak proved that the Weasley family was no exception. So suspicions might be raised and rumors might fly but there would be no announcement about baby Potter until the summer. 

Ginny arched a questioning eyebrow, but Harry merely shrugged. “Never mind. It was just something somebody at work said...Here's to our little secret.” Together they raised their mugs in a suitably small toast.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner preparations were well underway when a familiar figure tumbled out of the fireplace. 

“Wotcher, Ginny.” No matter what, she would recognize that mischievous smile and those twinkling eyes anywhere. Today the metamorphmagus’ hair was a soft brown, the natural color that he had inherited from his father. 

“Teddy!” As if on cue, Albus hurtled through the doorway. Determined to have the older boy’s attention all to himself for a few minutes, he latched onto Teddy’s leg with a remarkable vice grip. 

Unphased by this, the ten year old gently prised away his fingers, before crouching down for a quick hug. “How’s it going, Al? Any news?” 

Bouncing up and down, Albus declared. “I’m big!” 

Teddy chuckled, scrunching up his face to add a few inches to his own height. “Really? Well, not as big as me!” 

It wasn’t long before James appeared, looking for the source of all the noise. His face lit up when he spotted his honorary brother.”Teddy! Guess what time it is?” 

“Dinner Time?” He asked, hopefully. A few weeks ago at The Burrow they had played ‘what time is it mister wolf?’ Though the eldest Potter boy had no concept of the clock, he enjoyed being chased by his cousins. 

Inhaling through a button nose, he caught the scent of spaghetti Bolognese and chocolate cake.

Teddy’s eyes flashed blue, widening with joy with joy at the prospect of all his favourites in one meal. He had always loved Italian food, ever since the Potters had taken him to Lake Garda five years ago. 

Was there a secret celebration he didn’t know about? His birthday had been last month, after all. 

~

Standing by the sink, Ginny sighed. She was on the verge of lamenting her husband’s lateness, when he apparated directly into the front garden. 

Rather than come inside, he stood there a moment, as though dazed, before gesturing for her to join him outside. She could hardly see his face, through the steam from the boiling pasta, but instinctively she knew something was very wrong. 

“Teddy, could you set the table for me, please? I’ll be back in a minute.” Without bothering to remove her apron, Ginny hurried to the front door as fast as she could without alarming the children. 

By the time she reached him, Harry was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands in agitation. 

He stopped when he spotted her, standing there he looked like a lost little boy. Wordlessly, she went to him. Standing on tiptoes she cupped his face with her right hand, using the other to wipe away the salty sting of tears. 

Softly, soothingly, she asked. “What happened? What do you need?” 

~

Harry spoke slowly and haltingly, drawing on an inner strength he wished he did not need. “Mrs. Figg...Her body was found in Privet Drive this morning...Murdered.” 

After that, it was a long time before either of them spoke. As Harry remembered that the children were inside, awaiting dinner, Ginny murmured. “Our news will keep...A few days won’t make a difference.” 

Squeezing her hand in silent gratitude, Harry shook his head. Postponing the announcement would be like letting them win. Despite, or perhaps because of everything, he was determined that they should celebrate new life. After all, only a couple of days ago they had mourned those who lost their lives in the Wizarding War which had taken place almost ten years previously. As such, it was imperative to look to the future. 

And so, Harry and Ginny ventured back into their home. If Teddy wondered what they had been doing in the garden, he did not ask. If Albus received a particularly ferocious hug then he did not complain. 

~

It was only after the plates had been cleared away that stole a furtive glance at his parents, before asking again. “What time is it, Teddy?” 

Eying his watch, Teddy saw that it was almost half past six. “It’s not quite bedtime yet...Maybe time to help with the washing up?” Regardless of the mess, the Potters liked the children to help around the house. 

Frustrated, James reached for Teddy’s hand, attempting to pull him out of his chair. Puzzled, the older boy eventually gave in and allowed himself to be dragged over to the mantelpiece. 

There set the Potter family clock with one hand for Harry, Ginny, Teddy, James, Albus and ...baby? 

It took Teddy a couple of minutes to grasp the meaning of the new hand; he looked from his family to the clock and back again, hardly daring to believe it, as his hair slowly changed to a brilliant turquoise.

Impatient, Albus exclaimed. “I’m big!” Indeed, James confirmed that he too was to be a big big brother again. As Ginny smiled, explaining that it would be several months before the baby arrived, Harry found himself tearing up.

“Daddy, what’s wrong?” James could not recall ever seeing his father crying before. 

Before Ginny could explain that these were a sign of happiness, Teddy spoke up, with a level of certainty that can only come from a decade of life experience. 

“They’re hormones, right? Ron said that when you’re having a baby it makes your feelings go a bit funny…” 

And just like that Harry’s bout of anguish was replaced by a fit of laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

A warm day in early July saw Harry Potter wipe sweat from his brow as he pursued the Operation Thunder files once again. It was stifling in his office, but he worked through his lunch break with the door closed.

The murder, which been given top priority in the first few weeks, had now been downgraded, partly because of the failure to provide satisfactory links to the death of Arabella Figg. With new cases coming in all the time and little to no additional manpower available, Harry had been forced to work the case in his spare time. 

At present, he sipped a glass of pumpkin juice, running his finger down the information that had been gleaned from the crime scene back in March. Once again, he cursed the limits of prior incantato. The reverse spell effect had only revealed the last spell performed by Nerys Orpington’s wand; there was no way of knowing what other spells had been carried out prior to the killing curse, or indeed whether she too had suffered death at the hands of her own wand. Harry had a hunch that another murder weapon had been involved, but there was as yet no proof. 

The Aurors were operating on the theory that she had killed her younger brother, only to take her own life due to overwhelming guilt. Looking at the transcripts of the interview with the deceased’s father, it was not difficult to see why. 

~

“Mr. Orpington, would you please elaborate on the nature of your relationship with your son?” 

The man scoffed, his steely grey moustache quivered with righteous indignation. “My son? I have no son. It is the circumstances of my daughter’s death that ought to concern the authorities.” 

Hours earlier, Abercrombie and Peakes had travelled to Orpington Manor in the Sussex countryside.They had delivered the death notice in the drawing room, with its elaborate family tapestry. Upon closer examination, one name was missing, blasted off in recognition of the failure of a filthy squib. 

Changing tack, Harry tried again. “Can you tell me the nature of Nerys’ relationship with her brother?” 

Sighing, Orpington turned away, as though gazing into the distant past. “My daughter was kind; she showed astonishing tolerance towards all manner of abominable creatures. She was a soft girl-too pure for this world.” 

“Perhaps it was an act of mercy? A courageous attempt to end Gabriel’s suffering and her own?” Harry did his best to sound sympathetic, though he was filled with disgust. 

Orpington gave a bark of laughter, slamming his fist on the table. You think I killed them? Is that it? Tell me something, Mr. Potter. Do you have children?” 

Harry hesitated. “Yes. I have two sons.” 

At this, Orpington inclined his head. “Well, I no longer have children, but I do have twenty seven years of fatherly experience. And let me tell you, there is a great deal of difference between wanting your children dead and wishing they had never been born.” 

~

Glancing up from the file, Harry caught sight of the framed photograph of Ginny and the boys which had pride of place upon his desk. This in turn caused him to glance at his watch, This lead to some swearing, before he disappeared with a small pop. 

In Godric’s Hollow, Padama was just finishing up her routine checks. “Everything looks fine, though your blood pressure is a little higher than I’d like.” 

Ginny sighed. “Easier said than done with two rambunctious toddlers.” 

Padma nodded knowingly. “I don’t know how you do it...One is enough to drive me around the twist!” Her son, Rohan, was a little older than James. 

They carried on making small talk for a few moments. Padma has mentioned that she had an appointment with Katie Bell at three o’clock, but they had agreed to wait as long as possible before starting the scan, in case Harry arrived. 

“Speak of the devil,” Padma laughed as her husband appeared suddenly in the middle of the sitting room without warning. 

He nodded to the midwife, before crossing the room to crouch at the head of the bed that had been conjured there. 

He squeezed Ginny’s fingers, planting an apologetic kiss on her forehead. “What’s the verdict? Did I miss it?” 

“I’m fine,” Ginny reassured him. “We’re just about to begin.” With that, Padma swept her wand over her growing bump. The spell caused a cold sensation that almost took Ginny’s breath away, but that was nothing compared to seeing their child. 

At twenty weeks, though only the size of a banana, the little one took up an awful lot of room in their hearts. 

After checking the anatomy and measurements, Padma turned to the parents-to-be. “The big question: would you like to know if you’re having a little witch or wizard?” 

Harry didn’t hear her, he was too caught up listening to the foetal heartbeat, astonishingly rapid as ever at 140 bpm. 

Gently, Ginny tugged on his sleeve so they could confer. Before James was born, they had decided to find out. Last time, Ginny had been delighted to discover that they were expecting another little boy. It was only fair that Harry got to choose this time.

After some consideration, he shook his head in favour of a surprise. “All that matters is that baby Potter is healthy.” 

If Harry only knew then just how much he would come to regret those very words.


	6. Chapter 6

As yet another summer evening waned, Hermione laboured through the night. As the 17th August dawned, Hugo Ryan Granger-Weasley entered the world. 

After breakfast, Ron tumbled out of the fireplace in a euphoric daze, scooping up Rosie and returning home to meet her baby brother. 

Early evening saw the Potters visiting Winchester to meet their new nephew. 

Knocking tentatively, Ginny peered around the bedroom door to see mother and son, together at last. 

Fatigue aside, Hermione couldn’t help but feel like the cat that got the cream. 

Hugo was perfect; seven and three quarter ounces, 10 fingers and 10 toes, a fine pair of lungs and a hearty appetite. 

Cradling him in her arms, Ginny felt her own baby kick, as if to greet her cousin. 

Watching them, Hermione smiled. “I bet you can’t wait.” At 28 weeks, the finish line was in sight, but there was still a way to go. 

Ginny caught her eye. “To go home and sleep through the night?”

Soon the Potter family would be complete, in that moment she was grateful.


	7. Chapter 6

Harry was busy writing a report when Abercrombie entered his office, flustered. “Sir, you’d better come quick...It’s raining in the atrium.” 

Normally, the Magical Maintenance Department was concerned with all things meteorological at the Ministry. But the meaningful look that Euan gave him was enough to make the Head Auror rise from his desk. 

R.A.I.N. was a squib group which campaigned for the Rights and Integrity of Non-Magical People. Neither Gabriel nor Mrs. Figg had ties to the organisation, yet it’s members insisted on hounding the authorities at regular intervals. 

As suspected, they were protesting at the lack of progress in the Orpington murder investigation. 

The pair pushed their way through a small sea of placards, ignoring the comments and accusations that were hurled their way. In the centre of it all was Finnigan, shaking his head emphatically. “No comment.” 

Together, they went to speak to security, who would see to it that the crowd was dispersed swiftly and safely. 

In the empty elevator, Harry had just about had enough. Something was niggling him and he needed to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible. 

He was not very familiar with the group and yet he could picture their logo in his mind’s eye, having last seen the purple umbrella and smiling sun on a badge, attached to the cloak of a woman at that very first press conference. 

“I need you to run a full background check on everyone associated with R.A.I.N, including one Cliona Murphy.” 

An hour later, Abercrombie appeared in his doorway again, this time looking on edge.. He was quickly followed by an agitated Seamus, who closed the door with a snap. 

Catching sight of their expressions Harry instinctively cast the Muffliato charm. Abercrombie was the first to speak up. 

“Sir this Cliona doesn’t appear to exist. Nothing in Hogwarts records, nothing in the Ministry database, there’s no one by that name affiliated with R.A.I.N…..So we were wondering, could it have been an alias?” 

Here, Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, gesturing for him to expand on the theory.

Here Seamus chimed in. “Murphy is an incredibly common surname; the Irish equivalent of Jones or Smith. Cliona on the other hand, was a famous medieval druidess. Maybe you’ve seen the chocolate frog card?” 

Seamus paused, nervously clearing his throat. “She was a shapeshifter; an animagus. Legend says that in bird form she cured the sick by singing them to sleep.” 

In the silence that followed, the truth rose up from the depths of the unknown, as strange and spectral as ever. 

Situated above a busy Chinese restaurant off Diagon Alley, R.A.I.N. headquarters was little more than a cupboard. A jovial woman, who introduced herself as Ms.Barnes, the secretary, greeted the three aurors from behind the desk. At her insistence they conjured chairs, but it was quite the squeeze. 

Awestruck though she was, Allison readily agreed to help with their inquiries. She was disappointed to have to tell them that she had no memory of one Cliona Murphy. 

Unwilling to give up, Harry described her medium build and height, mid twenties, red hair and a rather large nose. 

It was this feature which caused a gleam of recognition to appear in the woman’s eyes. “That sounds familiar...Cliona, you said? I think you must mean Mafalda.” She cleared her throat. 

For one surreal moment, Harry thought she meant Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Office. 

“Mafalda Prewett.” Having spoken too soon, she descended into a fit of coughing. When she raised her head, eyes streaming, she was surprised to see all three men on their feet. 

Seamus and Euan’s thanks was drowned out by an unmistakable pop, as Harry disappeared into thin air, gone in search of his wife’s third cousin. 

~

Meanwhile in Godric’s Hollow, Ginny was at her wit’s end. As they came back from the village, Albus declared that he had to wee. It had seemed like a great idea to toilet train him before the new baby arrived, but even as they reached the house, the sight of her youngest son doing the tell-tale dance was enough to make Ginny question her sanity. 

As she hurried up the stairs with a wriggling toddler in tow James followed, dragging his little bag of school supplies. 

Against all the odds they made it, afterwards Ginny deposited Albus in his cot. As James was engrossed in his new books, she decided to take a few moments to herself, preferably with a cup of tea and a biscuit. 

Standing in the hallway, she heard something. Cautiously, Ginny reached for her wand, but it was too late. “Petrificus Totalus!” 

She fell backwards, stiff as a board. Only her eyes were moving, gazing up at a stranger who looked oddly familiar. 

“Funny how we don’t notice things until it’s too late. Unremarkable people; journalists, accountants. What does it matter if your classmate dies? Your former neighbour? Tragic alright, but nothing to do with you.” 

In her frozen state, Ginny’s mind was racing. Didn’t Mum have a second cousin who was a squib accountant? 

“Your family, or indeed our family has something of a saviour complex; abused orphans, Muggle-borns, veelas, werewolves, convicted murderers, House-elves. No cause too big or too small. Except the one that really matters.” 

The girl gazed down upon her and Ginny saw that she was a couple of years her junior. In spite of herself, she saw something of a family resemblance. 

“My father taught me, you know. He had no powers, but he persevered with the theory.Over time, I taught myself wandwork. But it was from him that I learned about the centuries of segregation endured by non-magic people born into the wizarding world…” 

She wiped her eyes and Ginny saw that her own were an almost identical shade of brown. 

“It wasn’t until he died that I decided to take matters into my own hands. Despite my best efforts to bring about justice and equality, it became clear to me that some squibs were far too loyal to their oppressors. If we were to rise up, familial bonds would have to be cast aside, organisational ties severed. But they resisted. And so sacrifices were made, for one and all.” 

Ginny thought of the Orpingtons and poor Mrs. Figg as her eyes strained in the direction of the upstairs and her beloved boys. 

Seeing this, Mafalda gave a cunning smile. “It took some time, but I realised that the great Harry Potter would only take notice if one of his own was affected.” Her brown eyes shone with a mad zeal. Nothing could stand in her way, not even the aurors who were descending on the cottage at that very moment. 

As Ginny watched wide-eyed, a blinding light erupted from Mafalda’s wand and pierced her abdomen. Faraway, there was the sound of a door being blasted off its hinges as the perpetrator was disarmed with a familiar “expelliarmus!” 

But mother and child knew only searing pain and sudden darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Ginny awoke in silence, her vision blurred by a thick mist. Slowly, she sat up and her surroundings took shape. Suddenly, she became aware that she was lying on the floor of a surprisingly clean King’s Cross Station. Conscious of her nakedness, she found herself clothed in scarlet robes. 

Sitting on a metal seat nearby was none other than Lily Evans. Smiling, she gestured for her daughter-in-law to join her. Overwhelmed with questions, Ginny blurted out. “What happened?” 

Lily sighed. Her facial expression was a mix of anger and admiration.“Once again, you endured against evil. An attacker attempted to seal your daughter’s fate and you fought back. Together. Such is the power of unconditional love.” 

Glancing up, Ginny saw a familiar face in the distance. Subtle differences aside, the similarity of father and son was uncanny. But it was the bundle in James’ arms that took her breath away. 

Cradling her newborn, Ginny allowed the words to sink in. “Are we…? ” She whispered. 

James shook his head, waving her hands to encompass the empty station. “This is a transitory area, for those moving between life and death. Here, you can take a train, one way or the other.” 

Green Eyes twinkling, Lily murmured, “I thought my granddaughter deserved to meet her namesake.” 

Ginny was still trying to figure out what she meant when they started to slip away, back to the wizarding world.


	9. Chapter 9

Ginny lay still, her eyelids heavy. She felt as though she had been hit over the head with a battering ram and there was a dull ache in her abdomen. Forcing her eyes open, she became aware of the fluorescent lights and the smell of disinfect. 

Ginny realised that she was in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies when a mediwitch appeared over her in green robes. 

“Look who’s awake. Lie still and I’ll fetch Healer Macmillan.” A few moments later, Ernie was at her bedside, checking her pupils and reflexes. 

“Good to have you with us. It was touch and go for a while. You lost a lot of blood and your pressure bottomed out so we had to do an emergency cesarean section.” As she listened, Ginny tried to speak, but she was completely hoarse. 

Ernie struggled to lip read, as he adjusted the pillows to ease her into a sitting position, so she could try to drink. 

As Ginny raised the glass to her lips, Harry appeared in the doorway, pale and tired, with joyful tears running down his unshaven cheeks. Ernie smiled. “Dad has been sitting with baby Potter. Your daughter had a rough start; we revived her and have cast a ventilation charm to ease her respiratory distress.” 

Sitting down gingerly on the end of the hospital bed, Harry squeezed her fingers. “She is a fighter; like her mother.” 

Finally, Ginny found her voice. “Lily.”


	10. Epilogue

The Potters had visited the fourth floor spell damage every day for over two months. Each time he laid eyes on Lily, Harry was transported back to the day she was born. 

Born prematurely at just 30 weeks gestation, she had been tiny and fragile, suspended in a warming bubble, unable to maintain her own body temperature. 

In the beginning, they had used a ventilation charm to help breathe; they gave her a potion to help her lungs develop, with the result that the weaning process could begin after 36 hours. Unable to suck properly, she would need magical help with feeding for much longer. Their daughter was closely monitored, with alarm bells going off if her heart rate or oxygen saturation dipped too low. 

The staff of St. Mungo’s brought her back from the brink of death; there had been some trying moments, but their youngest child had clung to life with a tenacity that made her family proud. 

Over time, the Potters learned every mediwitch and Healer by name. Ginny was discharged after 3 days, but Lily was a week old before they held her. As the months went by, Lily spent longer outside of the bubble, often enjoying skin-to-skin contact, resting on her father’s chest. 

~

The healers had warned them the the combination of a premature birth, a traumatic delivery might delay development. Only time would tell the impact of the curse she suffered in utero. 

As uncertain as the prognosis was, baby Potter was doing well. At over five pounds and feeding well, she was getting stronger each day. With her original due date in sight, so too was discharge. Gazing down at the infant the medi witches fondly referred to as the Girl Who Lived, Harry spoke. “What about Luna?”

Ginny shot him a questioning glance , thinking of her best friend who had visited the other day; now a famous magizoologist living in the United States with her husband Rolf, Luna had happily taken up the role of Lily’s Godmother. A christening would be held in Godric’s Hollow, once Lily was home safe and sound. 

“What about Luna for a middle name?” Harry clarified. It had been Ginny who had suggested that they name their granddaughter; a survivor who had taught her son about the meaning of true love. 

Seeing the look of confusion on his wife’s face, he wiped tears from his eyes and struggled to find the right words. “It’s just...I want her to know it’s OK to be different. I want to know that she can be herself, no matter what.” 

Ginny couldn’t speak, but she managed to nod in agreement.


End file.
